


We're all laughing with...

by Tangledtrinkets (Bellzandtrinkets)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellzandtrinkets/pseuds/Tangledtrinkets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's in over his paygrade. Tag to 7X01</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're all laughing with...

Dean’s watched probably every newscast in the country by now, and listened to every radio station he can get to tune in from the junk yard.

Sam keeps giving him looks every time they start talking about the ‘second coming’ and ‘God’. Dean remembers that look a bit too fucking well from when Dad died, or Ellen and Jo died, and god kn- damn if he didn’t get it from him pretty constantly the past couple weeks, but it’s not like he’s fragile or something.

He’s got to know. So he can handle learning about the stupid shit the wayward not angel is up to. He can handle hearing about the body count and the people calling him a devil and a savior within sentences of each other.

He can handle anything.

Because he fucking has to, that’s why.

Cas isn’t coming back.

Hell, Cas isn’t even in there. This is something wearing him, running around, and playing dad.

But it doesn’t matter.

Dean’s in over his paygrade, and for once, it’s real hard to even fake words about ‘fixing it’. (Who is he kidding? He hasn’t said a word about fixing anything that isn’t the Impala, and maybe Sam. He knows what battles to pick, and he doesn’t have much heart left to lose any more.)

Stuff doesn’t stay fixed, not for them, and he wrecks shit wherever he goes. (Just look at Castiel. All it took was a couple years and he had the biggest hand in wrecking an angel of the lord, best one he ever met, and he knew more than enough.) So he drinks, and he fixes the car (I didn’t leave her to you just so you could screw her up) and he works until he doesn’t dream.

Because what can he fix, if he couldn’t even make his best friend- this profound fucking bond-if he couldn’t make Cas listen when it counted, what good was anything going to do?

Nothing.

Not a goddamn thing.

So Dean gets another beer out of the fridge, and is half finished with it by the time he climbs back under the car, and he doesn’t let his hands shake when the radio starts up again, proof that he’s failed roaring to the point of whitenoise.


End file.
